


A Time to be Joyful (When All is Calm)

by RipplingReader



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Christmas Decorating, Christmas Dinner, Christmas Eve, Christmas Party, Christmas Presents, Cuddling & Snuggling, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mistletoe, Neopronouns, Photographer!Virgil, QPR losleep, Reminiscing, Slow Dancing, Snow, Teasing, writer!roman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28392318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RipplingReader/pseuds/RipplingReader
Summary: Christmastime is a time of tradition, and traditions are something well known in Virgil and Roman's apartment. This year, Virgil is ready to start a new one, though ae has to get over aes fear of Roman not saying that three-letter word that'll change both of their lives forever. Lucky for aer, Roman has always had a calming effect on aer.(Title from Peter Hollens' "December Song")
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders & Dr. Emile Picani, Logic | Logan Sanders/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders & Everyone
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8
Collections: Sanders Sides 2020 Gift Exchange





	A Time to be Joyful (When All is Calm)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Virgilius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Virgilius/gifts).



> Hello all! This was my story for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange on Tumblr, and I very much enjoyed writing this for @anxxiousmess. I had a lot of fun figuring out how to incorporate the different wishes and flashbacks, and I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Warnings:  
> -Language  
> -Food, drinking, and cooking  
> -Alcohol mentions  
> -Burn mentions (nothing actually happens)  
> -Kissing  
> -Scissors briefly  
> -Self-deprecation  
> -Overprotectiveness  
> -Remus being Remus  
> -Dog briefly
> 
> Quick mention that Remy, Roman, and Remus are triplets, and Emile is Logan's parent.

Virgil, ever the worrier, has managed to panic aeself into a tizzy in the name of perfection. This comes as a surprise to absolutely no one, and it most definitely isn't something new, not by a long shot. However, the panic of the coming night is enough to make even the most levelheaded of people quake in their boots, and anxiety, unfortunately, doesn't cancel out the effects. Rather, it magnifies them to a hellish amount. There is no end in sight for aes long-winded panic.

All things considered, it should be a pleasant day. Snow had fallen overnight, and ae had woken to a world blanketed in frozen flakes and rushed out to take pictures. The morning light sparkled against the fresh snow, and the multicolored lights and statues ae and aes boyfriend had put up only served to lighten the mood. What had turned from admiring the scene to a snowball fight with aes boyfriend had left them rosy-cheeked and chilled, but warm with laughter. They’d taken the time afterward to prepare tea and coffee, and had settled in to watch some cartoons as they warmed themselves.

But 'should' isn’t a guarantee, and Virgil panics on. Roman hasn’t picked up on it yet, and in all honesty, that’s for the best as he’ll most definitely ask questions.

Noon is blossoming when they rise again, taking care of their dishes and cleaning up the kitchen while they’re at it. Wax is set to melt, a sweet scent with a name matching the aesthetic but not the smell following it, and the speaker dings as it connects to the Bluetooth speaker. The familiar quarter note beat of “December Song” begins and echoes throughout their home as they open the closet and extract their tote of decorations.

Many of the Christmas decorations are already arranged, and the tree in the corner is strung with lights. Virgil pulls the curtains open with a flourish, the light reflected by the snow seeping in before ae places aeself right in the middle of the gleaming brilliance, stretching out for a moment like a cat before beginning to pull out the boxes and spreading them across the floor. Ae hears the sounds of Roman as he finishes cleaning in the other room, singing along to the music.

In no time, a piles of decorations and a village of boxes surround aer. Roman joins aer soon enough, wiping his wet hands on his sweatpants. His shirt is faded with the remnants of a print of an old band, and his hair pushed back by glasses and messy, but Virgil still thinks he’s the most beautiful man under the sun. Ae tells him as much, and red blooms on his cheeks.

“Charmer,” he mutters, sliding closer and dancing around Virgil’s minefield of decorations. Ae smirks.

“What do you date me for, if not for my charms?”

“Your stellar cooking.”

“How dare you use me like that!”

“Allow me to make it up to you?”

Ae considers for a moment, hand on aes chin. “Well, for starters, you could stop standing on the decorations.”

“Shit!” he says, moving off of it quickly as ae laughs at him.

“And now you can help me put up this village.”

Roman huffs, dropping cross-legged onto the floor near aer. With the tote now empty, they begin to pry the village from the boxes, pulling away tape and freeing cardboard tabs. Houses and various buildings form a display, sitting atop the boxes as if forming an original mountain range of their own. Their village is soon constructed, albeit in the wrong spot.

Roman rises again, beginning to pull the autumn decorations from the wall shelves, handing them to his partner to put back into storage. They work together, clearing away the dust and making the wooden shelves shine under the cleaning chemicals.

In the warmth of their apartment, Virgil finds aeself too warm and flees to their room to pull of aes hoodie. Soon, ae comes back wearing an old shirt from one of Roman’s shows and glares at aes boyfriend when he welcomes aer back in with a wolf-whistle. Ae rolls aes eyes and picks a box to shove into Roman’s arms. He follows aer to the shelves, serving as a very helpful table as ae fishes through the box.

Finding what ae is looking for, ae begins to lay out the glittery white felt across the shelves, letting it dangle over the edges. With the base finished, they turn to the village, scrutinizing it.

Virgil grabs one, turning to Roman. “Remember when we got this one?”

It’s a porcelain bookshop, colored white but for yellow accents. Green paint details images of holly beneath the window sills and gold fills in creases. Black lettering spells out the title on a hand-painted sign.

“How could I forget?” Roman asks, examining it.

“Was it–I think it was your mom who got this for us?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Roman says, taking it in his hands and running his thumb over the uneven surface of it.

Virgil bends down to the box, taking out a strand of lights and beginning to untangle it from the others. “She got it for us, hmm, the Christmas after you published _Eye of the Storm_ , right?”

Roman nods. “She said she saw it at the store and thought of me and my story. Well, she knew we collected the buildings, so yeah.”

“I still remember when you first were told that it was getting published,” Virgil says with a grin.

“Okay, so _maybe_ I was a little excited, but can you blame me?”

Ae dissolves into a fit of giggles. “I was so scared you were going to fucking _yeet_ me out the window when you picked me up.”

“I wasn’t going to yeet you! You were very safe!”

“Mhm,” ae hums doubtfully.

“Oh, just hand me the lights, _luz de mi vida_.”

Virgil hands him the lights, brow creasing. “Did you really just ask for the lights and then call me the light of your life?”

“Yes.” Roman plugs in the light strand, laying it along the length of the middle shelf. Then he puts the bookstore on it, placing the light in it.

Virgil hands Roman a small model of a café next, and they are both careful not to drop it. It’s a year older than the bookstore, and it’s colored red. Leaf garlands wind their way up the length of the roof, and bows kiss their way up the sides. Snow coats the slope of the roof, and the scene viewable through the windows depicts a room with display cases and chairs. A railing curls around the outside, and the corner holds a small tree.

As Roman finds a place for it, Virgil speaks up. “I don’t think I ever told the story of why Remy gave this to us, did I?”

“I assumed it was ‘cause of Pat’s café,” Roman says without looking back.

“Well, yes, that. But did I tell you that that’s where Logan and Remy interrogated me about my crush on you?”

Roman whips around, nearly falling off the stool. “Um, _no_ , you did not.”

“Okay so, we always got together at the café every week, right?” Roman nods. “One time, we were drinking coffee and talking when you came up, and your brother just begged to know how we weren’t together.”

“Of course he did.”

Virgil nods. “Logan tried to defend me, obviously. Then Remy had to bring up how Logan could see it even though ce is ignorant about anything romantic.”

“Okay, that is true; Logan really does know _nothing_ about romance.”

“Ce did actually give me advice though.”

“Did he?” Roman asks dubiously.

“It was good advice…even if I didn’t act on it.” Roman snorts. “Then, y’know, ce had to recount the tale of how ce started ranting about how confused ce was about cir feelings for Remy _to_ Remy.”

“Ce’ll never be able to live that down.”

“Nope,” ae said, popping the ‘p,’ “not in a million years. Remy was rather disappointed that both Logan and I claimed to need drinks and food to get through that whole conversation.”

Roman huffs a laugh, wincing at the scrape of the lightbulb as it takes its place in the building. Virgil hands him the next one, and they continue, reminiscing over how they’d gotten them and random memories that pop up along with it. In no time at all, the village is set and beautiful on its multi-shelf home. Virgil stands up to admire it, and Roman steps away to join aer.

The village glitters in its full glory, the lights seeping through the windows and painting murals against the walls. The two admire their handy work, seeing more than the village, but also the memories that come with it. Roman smiles at Virgil, and ae smiles back.

Putting back the tote and its contents is much easier than that of getting it out, and they finish it quickly, Virgil taking the job of vacuuming up the dust. The sun is setting when they sit on the couch, Roman with his notebook, and Virgil with aes project.

Virgil stretches out on the couch, leaning against the arm where ae had draped pillows. Ae pulls up aes knees to aes chest, hiding aes album behind aes knees. Roman curls up on the other section, and Virgil takes a second to admire him.

The window is behind him, the sun hidden behind his head but the rays cast out like a halo. His curls are chaos on his head from his habit of running his hand through it. Glasses rest on his nose, golden frames reflecting the sun’s light. The Christmas tree lays lit in the corner, the multicolored lights casting the smallest of rainbows on his face. He’s relaxed against the cushions, scribbling away in his notebook about a new idea. His teeth toy with his bottom lip, playing with it unconsciously. So, who can blame Virgil for taking out aes nearby camera and snapping a picture?

Roman looks up at aer, lips pulling into a smile as his writing slows and halts. “Like what you see?” he says cockily, a laugh evident in his features.

Blush paints its way across aes face, and ae looks away. “Maybe,” ae says, and Roman’s good-natured laugh is like breathing after resurfacing from underwater. Aes eyes flick down to the camera screen as ae scrolls through the new pictures, lifting it closer to aes face. Ae grins internally at the focus ae had managed to capture in that short time.

Roman tips his head to the side, and ae leans forward to present the camera screen. “This is a really good picture, _caro_ ,” he says.

Virgil ducks aes head, murmuring a quiet “thanks.” Ae pulls the camera back, switching it off and putting it to the side. After making certain that Roman is focused once again on his work, ae opens the photo album.

It’s halfway full already of pictures Virgil has taken over the years, and ae sets to work with aes pen to write in captions.

At some point, Roman turns on instrumental music from their shared playlist for these exact occasions, and ae hums along to some songs softly. It’s comfortable, and it feels like home. All ae can think of to describe the situation is intimate.

The sun has since bid its farewell to their home, and they work by the light of the tree, the village, and the lamps at the edges of the couch. The only sound is that of pens scratching against paper and their breathing, which has since become in sync.

Virgil glances at the clock ticking on the wall and closes the book, getting up to take it to their bedroom. When ae returns, Roman looks up, going to close his notebook as well. His fingers curl around the pen, twitching to get back to the sentence he’d been in the middle of writing, and ae glances at his curling script splayed out on the paper. Aes fingers brush against his shoulder as ae walks by, saying, “it’s all right, you don’t need to get up. I’ll make us some dinner.”

“No, I can help–”

“Hush, Princey, and let me be nice. I know you want to keep writing.”

Roman bites his lip. “If you insist.”

Ae laughs, turning to look over aes shoulder. “I do insist. Anything particular you want?”

“If we have the stuff for that really good stew you make, I definitely won't complain,” Roman says, halting in his writing to tilt his head to the side and ponder a moment.

“As you wish, my prince,” Virgil replies, and Roman turns around to see aes sweeping bow. He snorts, turning back to his work as Virgil heads to the kitchen.

It’s a recipe ae has made many times, and so ae is relatively confident in making it, but ae decides to have the recipe just in case. Ae pulls the book from the cabinet, setting it on its stand as ae begins to gather the ingredients.

Ae sets to work, chopping and mincing onions, garlic, and mushrooms and pushing them into an oiled skillet to sauté. Ae then sets to work measuring out the wine, seasoning, kale, and tomatoes. When that’s all prepared, ae twists the oven’s dial to 400°F before pulling two sticks of butter from the fridge to cube and then freeze. After that, ae mixes together flour, baking soda, and salt.

Ae turns back to the skillet, stirring around the vegetables. They’re nearly done, and ae waits a few moments before adding the white wine and turning up the heat. Ae then turns back to the mix, taking the butter cubes from the freezer and pushing them in, turning on the mixer. The mixer is loud, and ae has to hold down the top despite the engagement of the lock. Ae hears the sound of sizzling from the pan and breathes in the smell. Once the mixer finishes, ae adds the sour cream and egg, turning the machine on yet again. The dough hook plows through it, and ae feels safe enough to turn away to check the pan.

Virgil stirs it once again, careful not to burn aeself before turning back to the mixer. The dough is suitable, and ae turns the mixer off, removing the bowl. Ae then cleans a section of the counter before flouring it. Ae washes aes hands before laying out the dough, working to fold it into a rectangle. Thrice ae folds it like a letter, rolling it out. Ae quickly switches back to the skillet to see the wine about halfway gone, and tips in the kale, seasonings, and tomatoes, leaving it to go back to a boil.

It’s as ae is using the cookie cutter to divide the biscuits that arms encircle aes waist and ae jumps. Ae feels Roman’s chest rise as he laughs and harrumphs. Roman’s cold hands brush a stretch of aes skin, and ae shrieks while Roman snorts.

“I thought I told you to do your thing?” ae says, wheezing slightly as ae cuts out the biscuits.

Ae feels Roman shrug. “Couldn’t keep going; got stuck. So, I figured I could come help you.”

“I suppose I can allow tha– _hey_!” ae yells again as Roman’s hands touch aes skin again. “If you want to help, then go over there and watch the skillet to tell me when it boils. And for God’s sake, _get those frozen hands off me or so help me_ –!”

Roman pulls away smirking, going to watch the skillet as instructed. The oven beeps as it reaches temperature, and Virgil is quick to finish with the cutouts. Roman moves to allow ae to put the pan in the oven, setting a timer for twenty minutes, and ae goes to clean the counter off.

Virgil listens as Roman’s humming under his breath turns into quiet words, and resists the urge to sing along. Ae rests aes chin on his shoulder, seeing as the liquid begins to boil. Ae reaches around to turn the knob to reduce the heat, going to fetch a lid to cover it. Roman puts another timer on his phone under Virgil’s instruction.

Virgil looks around, surveying the kitchen. There’s nothing to clean up, but ae could wash the dishes in the sink. As ae goes to do so, Roman catches aes hand, and ae is whirled around to come chest to chest with aes boyfriend. His quiet singing has become loud, and Virgil can’t help but sing along to the Christmas song as Roman starts to sway.

These impromptu dance sessions are nothing new, but Virgil still goes red every time as ae is held close, even if Roman’s hands are like ice against aes warm ones. They’re careful to avoid the counters and stove, after a few times of not minding it and learning their lesson.

Roman leads, and Virgil follows, his voice low as he sings the words slowly. Virgil hums along, the sizzling of the food their accompaniment. It’s not a particularly happy song, but one they’ve sung together for years since a fateful night of competitive karaoke.

Virgil takes the second verse, voice higher than Roman’s, as Roman sweeps them around the room. Ae now doesn’t have to look at aes feet, trusting Roman after so many times of dancing together.

They join together in the chorus, and Roman spins aer before pulling aer back to his chest. They sing of the cities of Europe and meeting each other again, voices layering and mixing.

Roman takes back the third verse, smiling at Virgil as he asks how ae’s doing and singing about the snow in Venice. Ae can’t resist the smile as his voice drops and rises again.

Roman twirls Virgil again as they reach the chorus, swaying ae as their voices rise together. Ae takes a moment to breathe, staring at Roman’s chest and quieting. Roman nearly stops to ask if ae’s all right, but ae looks up, taking a breath to sing the next verse.

Aes Italian is a bit rusty and not the most confident, but it rises throughout the verse. Aes voice takes the words at a staccato before the words begin to weave together, rising in volume as ae belts the last line.

Roman presses his lip to aes, pulling away before ae can react. He takes the last verse at a running speed, diving into it with as much energy as Virgil had. Ae smiles, letting aeself be held close and spun away before Roman rests near the last part.

They join together, singing it quietly as Roman dips Virgil low, and ae reaches up to tug Roman down to kiss aer. It lasts only a moment longer than the other as the timer on the oven interrupts their dance, and ae shrieks as Roman almost drops aer.

Roman pulls aer up to aes feet, and Virgil goes to lower the temperature, removing the lid to finally add the beans. Ae puts the lid in the sink after a brief moment of consideration, feeling Roman’s arms encircle aer once again. Ae sways in his arms, pulling free a minute later to turn off the stove.

Ae hears the sound of Roman moving and looks over to see him putting two hot pads under two new bowls. With a spatula, ae divides the food into the bowls after removing the bay leaf, putting the skillet with leftovers on the stove above an unheated section. Roman takes the two bowls out to the dining room, returning after a moment to retrieve napkins and silverware. Ae aids him by taking the butter from the fridge and honey from the pantry, smirking at Roman's fond glare even though they both know he'll use it too. Virgil hums as they set the table, content in aes little world.

They kill time together until the biscuits finish by crafting salads and drinks. The biscuits come hot from the oven and are quickly buttered. They take their places at the table, and ae rolls aes eyes upon seeing the merrily-glowing candle as the centerpiece. "It's romantic," Roman cries, and Virgil really can't argue with that, so it stays.

Dinner is delicious, and Roman can’t help all the compliments to the chef, turning Virgil into a puddle of mush in aes chair. As they eat, Roman outlines the issue with his story, and Virgil provides insight, causing Roman to gasp as he frantically describes a new twist. Virgil is struck with the absolute love ae holds for this man who lights up when describing stories and dances in the kitchen to only a cappella.

Roman trails off, beginning to apologize. Virgil snaps out of aes reverie, cutting off his apologies. “Ro, trust me, I enjoy this. I just got lost in thought. Go on,” and Roman is off again.

They clean up when they’re done, and Roman goes to write down his new ideas. Virgil slinks off to the bedroom, pulling the photo album from its hiding place.

Ae runs aes fingers over it, feeling the canvas texture stretched across the cover and spine. Ae feels the emblazoned words across the top and tightens the bow at the spine.

From the hiding spot, ae takes also the wrapping paper. It’s a deep red the color of holly berries–Roman’s favorite color–and gold filigree-like patterns dance atop it. The paper is the shiny type, and ae knows that Roman loves it. Ae hasn’t had many an opportunity to use it–having saved it for special occasions, and this is as good a time as any.

Virgil retrieves the scissors and tape, dropping down cross-legged on the floor. Ae lays the book on the unfolded paper, measuring it out. Ae cuts and wraps it up, the corners crisp despite aes shaking hands. As ae surveys it, ae has to admit this is one of aes best wrapping jobs. On the sticker, even if it’s obvious who it’s from, ae writes out “My love” and “Partner in crime” in spiraling calligraphy, not letting aeself think about the cheesiness of it. In a last-minute decision, ae crisscrosses ribbon across it, using the edge of the scissors to curl it.

Virgil takes the wrapped gift, setting it beneath the tree, seeing Roman raise an eyebrow. “Later,” ae replies to the nonverbal question, and he huffs in disappointment.

Ae settles onto the couch, and Roman sets aside his notebook and pen after finishing a sentence. “ _White Christmas_?” he asks, and Virgil can’t say no.

In all honesty, Virgil doesn’t even remember when their tradition of watching the musical began. It’s been going on as long as ae can remember, and yet the movie never grows old. Even if the plot isn’t one of the greatest, it’s like home.

The movie is inserted, and Roman pulls a blanket from the closet. It’s a large one of gray and white shades with geometrical patterns stretching across it. Virgil gets comfortable, building up a stable wall of pillows behind aes head as ae lays on the side of the couch facing the TV.

Roman briefly argues with ae, although not in any seriousness about how the spot currently occupied by Virgil is his. But soon with the promise of switching spots, Roman settles between aes legs and drapes the blanket over them.

The movie begins, and they speak quietly during the opening credits, Virgil hushing aes partner when the show begins. Throughout the movie, they make their commentary and belt out the tunes. It’s comfortable, and the air is thick with laughter. Virgil catches aeself staring at Roman more often than not, content to take in the image of the person who captured aes heart and makes the room feel alive. Roman doesn’t complain when he catches aer, rather, reaching up to pull aes head so he can kiss aer.

The two are reluctant to move when the movie ends, and Roman snuggles only closer as the song of the credits dances throughout the room. Virgil prods him with a grin. “But, Ro, don’t you want to know what I got you?”

Roman snaps up at that, a grin pressing at his lips. He moves from Virgil’s lap, and ae moves to go grab it. Roman watches with rapt attention, curious.

Roman cuddles up to Virgil again, head resting on aes shoulder as he looks down at it after fixing the blanket. Their bodies are warm and only grow warmer the longer they are close, but the warmth is not something that Virgil is about to complain about.

Ae pushes the gift into Roman’s hands, and he runs his hands over the paper. “A present on Christmas Eve?” he asks, sitting up to look at Virgil with his head cocked to the side.

Virgil nods. “In my family, we had a tradition where we would get each other books and give them on Christmas Eve. Papa and Dad always let me stay up later to read, and we would each be in our own spots of the room. I haven’t exactly been keeping to it faithfully since I moved out, but it’s as good a time as ever, right?”

Roman goes back to resting his head on Virgil’s shoulder. “Any special occasion, or just felt like it?”

Virgil rubs at the lump of the box in aes pocket, feeling the corners of it before shrugging. “No reason.”

Roman lets a laugh bubble from his lips. “Well, I won’t complain, that’s for sure. I do feel bad I didn’t get you something though.”

“That’s all right,” Virgil says, and it is. Ae slips an arm around Roman, squeezing him a moment. “Being with you is enough.”

Roman twists his head, looking up at his partner. “Who are you, and what have you done with my Virgil?”

“Oh, shut up and open your gift, Princey.” Ae looks down to see a smirk on aes boyfriend’s lips and elbows him.

“There’s the partner I know and love,” Roman says, fingers finding the seams of the wrapping and pulling at it.

Roman tosses away the paper, staring at the book in his hands with the “Our Adventure Book” stamped onto the cover. His eyes rake over it, and Virgil can only stare in anticipation. He looks up at Virgil.

“What’s wrong; cat got your tongue?” Virgil teases.

Roman shakes his head. “Can–can I open it?” he almost whispers.

Ae snorts. “That _is_ why I got it for you.”

Roman opens the book with reverence, the spine creaking. The first page is a section header describing a section of pining. A small verse pokes fun, and Roman laughs. He flips the page, seeing the pictures taped and glued so meticulously.

He smiles at the pictures, eyes looking up as he thinks. The pictures are labeled with dates, and it’s at one dated a little over three years past that he stops. He points to it, asking, “when did you take this?”

Virgil leans closer, peering at it. The picture in question is one not so well lit and taken from aes phone rather than aes professional camera. Even so, it’s easy enough to make out and depicts Roman half-asleep on Virgil’s chest as they both watched a movie. “Oh, that was when you were having the writing crisis, I believe.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific there,” Roman laughs.

“You texted me late in the night for me to come over.”

“Oh, _that_ crisis.”

The night in question was something far out of the ordinary. Roman never texted past eleven; it was a universal truth. One plus one equaled two, the sun was a star, and Roman never texted past eleven. Virgil had asked why, of course, on one of their many hangouts, and Roman had extensively explained that he needed his beauty sleep before laughing and changing the subject.

Therefore, on the night that Roman texted him with eleven minutes to two, Virgil had sprung from aes bed to Roman’s nearby apartment without a second thought. The night had a cold bite to it, and ae was very glad that they lived in the same building not for the first time as ae hastily zipped aes hoodie and shivered in aes sweatpants. Of course, that wouldn’t have stopped aer, but it was definitely something to be glad of.

Ae’d forgotten the key to aes friend’s apartment and had to settle for knocking. The Roman that had greeted aer almost sent aer spiraling into shock as the usually well put together man looked like he’d walked through a hurricane. Virgil was ushered in, closing the door behind aer and locking it.

In the better lighting, Roman had looked even worse. Dark circles were like another starless night sky beneath his eyes, and his lips, heavily chapped in the near-winter air, were picked raw and nearly bleeding. His curls, usually so artfully arranged, looked as if they’d had Roman’s hands pave a path through them one too many times, and stuck up at odd angles, and the glasses resting atop them didn’t do much to help. His clothes–an old college sweatshirt that had seen better days and stained jeans–were folded up and wrinkled in odd positions from constant fidgeting and shifting. In short, he had looked like hell. Virgil said as much, and Roman had pouted.

Roman had managed quite a good impression of a zombie as he moseyed over to his couch, flopping down and curling up in a ball. Virgil took to the other end, pulling aes knees to aes chest.

“So,” ae had said, chin resting on aes knees as he stared at aes best friend. “What’d you need me for?”

Roman mumbled something incoherent from where his face was smushed to the cushions.

“I can’t hear you when you look like you’re trying to become one with the couch,” ae said, prodding him with aes foot.

“I said,” Roman said louder, pulling his face away from the cushions and looking at Virgil, “that I’m sorry for calling you here. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, really, and I shouldn’t have bothered you when I can handle it.” He pushed his glasses back onto his head from where they had begun to slip.

Virgil bit aes lip. “You don't need to apologize. It’s not like I was doing anything important anyway. And, no offense to you at all, you don’t exactly look like you’re ‘handling’ it,” ae said, making air quotes and gesturing to the other. “I don’t have anything to do tomorrow, or today I guess I can say now, so if you need me to help you, I don’t have any issue with it. So, how can I help?”

Roman had only shrugged. “I’m not sure it’s something you can help with.”

“All right, can you tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s stupid,” he had mumbled.

“Roman,” Virgil said, leaning forward a bit. “Wearing a floral shirt, plaid pants, and duck socks is stupid, and you’re not wearing that. Whatever is going on is not stupid.”

“That was _one_ time!” he had squawked indignantly. Virgil chuckled. “I…I just have really been feeling like shit lately.”

“Mood.” Roman had given aer an unimpressed look, and ae quickly backtracked. “Did something specific happen?”

“No.” Roman fidgeted with a thread on his shirt. “Well, kind of, I guess. I’ve been working on a story recently. Trying to, at least. I have the absolute worst case of writer’s block known to lady, lord, or nonbinary royalty.” He threw his wrist to his forehead, flopping back as he grew quieter. “I don’t even know if I’m cut out for this; I can barely start a story, not to mention finish one. I’m a really bad writer, and honestly, I don’t think I can even call myself one.”

Virgil worried aes lip between aes teeth as Roman spoke, holding up a hand to cut off his self-deprecating mutterings. “Ro, I need you to listen to me: you’re not a bad writer. You’re an amazing one. Your stories are magic, and I know your brain is being really stupid right now, but I promise you I’m not lying.”

Roman had only hidden his face in the cushions again, sighing. “I can’t believe you.”

“I know. I know it’s really difficult. But your brain is lying to you. It’s a piece of absolute shit out to get you, and you can’t let it take away from your fire. Tell you what, how about you go finish the sentence you were writing, save it, and go put away your laptop. I can make popcorn and raid your candy storage, and we’ll watch some movies. We can talk about the story more if you’re stuck on a plot point or something. But you might be burnt out, knowing how hard you push yourself. Does that sound good?”

Roman had nodded, uncurling and stretching so his spine cracked. He stood, doing a good impression yet again of a zombie as he stumbled to his bedroom down the hall. Virgil stood as well, moving at a much faster pace than Roman as ae went to the kitchen, digging through the cabinets to find the well-loved popcorn supplies.

Ae had had the popcorn popping merrily in the microwave, butter in a small cup to melt next, and the array of seasonings on the counter when Roman had come back looking much more put together. His glasses actually rested on his nose now, and he’d traded his sweatshirt for a light t-shirt and his wrinkled jeans for sweatpants patterned with crowns.

“What’re we watching?” Virgil had asked, leaning against the counter as ae waited.

“I don’t really have a preference.”

“Well, that’s a first,” ae muttered. “How do you feel about watching _Up_?”

Roman didn’t respond, going out to the living room and flipping on the television to cue up the show. It was then, in the solitude, of the kitchen, that Virgil allowed aes concern to show. Roman always had an opinion over what movie to watch, to the point of rigging the vote previous times their friends had been together. He most definitely never showed his insecurities. He was, it always seemed, to be the epitome of self-confidence, and though some of it was false, this display was definitely a deviant from the norm.

Ae cut off the thoughts before they grew to be too much and took the bag from the microwave. Ae poured the popcorn into a bowl before putting the butter in the microwave. Once that finished, ae had drizzled it over the popcorn before putting an absurd amount of white cheddar on top, just the way they both liked it. Ae grabbed napkins before taking the bowls out to the other room.

Shoving the bowl into Roman’s lap, Virgil had gone and grabbed the large quilt covered in far too many Disney characters that Patton had made a few years back. Roman scooted to the other end of the couch to give aer room to stretch aes legs out, but Virgil was having none of that. Ae settled, shoving the pillows into a semi-comfortable backrest before waving Roman over.

“What are we? Fifteen again?” Roman said quietly as if he didn’t want to disturb anyone.

“Nope, ‘cause this time, we don’t have to worry about parents coming in and finding us.” A small smile ghosted across Roman’s face, and he slid over to sit between Virgil’s legs, settling against aes chest as the other pulled the quilt over both of them. Virgil turned on the movie, the opening logo playing as the light danced on both their faces.

They hadn’t spoken for a long time after that, occasionally stealing a piece of popcorn as they watched. Virgil wasn’t sure when aes arms snuck around Roman to hold him close, but the other didn’t protest, and so there they stayed. Gradually, the popcorn amount grew smaller and smaller, and Roman moved the bowl to the floor when it was empty. He shifted in aes arms, taking a moment to look up at Virgil who smiled at him.

“Hey, V?” Roman whispered, not wanting to disturb the fragile silence that hung around them.

Virgil had quirked an eyebrow at him, humming questioningly.

“I–thanks for doing this and coming over.”

“’Course. You’re my closest friend; why wouldn’t I?”

Roman shrugged. “Sometimes I think I annoy you, but I’m glad I texted you.”

Virgil had only shaken aes head. “Trust me, in our friend group, you are most definitely not the most annoying one.”

Roman had laughed. He opened and closed his mouth, as if wanting to say more, before deciding against it and leaning against Virgil’s chest once more as the other’s arms tightened around him.

They had fallen asleep there together, Roman laying down and halfway on top of Virgil. Roman had fallen asleep first, but Virgil had taken a moment to snap a picture, if only for blackmail before nodding off as well.

Virgil remembers it all in the space of a second, and ae spares a glance at the bookshelf near the tree. Even if ae has trouble seeing the title, ae knows the shape of it as well as aes own hand. The red cover of Roman’s published debut, _Eye of the Storm_ , stares at aer as ae remembers the difficulty it took to get there. But seeing the light in Roman’s eyes as he had read the good news of the publication was something ae would never forget.

Ae looks over at Roman, knowing that he remembers something similar. His mouth twists before he speaks. “I really didn’t have my shit together back then, did I?”

Virgil squeezes his shoulder. “Maybe not, but you got through it.”

“And here I am, doing it all over again. I feel like I should apologize–”

“No, nope. No apologies.”

“Isn’t that a Bon Jovi song?”

Virgil gives him an unimpressed look. “Yes. But you still don’t need to apologize. This is what I signed up for.”

Roman stares at aer a moment before shrugging and looking back at the pages. He takes in each picture, and they both reminisce. Abruptly, Roman stops, pointing to a picture.

“What’s this?” he asks, laughter in his voice.

It’s a picture taken in the morning with the sun’s rays barely falling through the window on a sleeping Roman. Rubbed into his sweater are faint dark stains from tears. Virgil remembers instantly, biting aes tongue. Ae has to admit that it’s definitely a rather gay picture to have, even if the lighting was good.

“Um,” ae says, avoiding his eyes. “Do you remember the night I came over and had a crisis about Janus?”

Roman looks up to the ceiling for a moment before his eyes light up. “Yeah, I think I do. Weren’t you worrying about hir and if ze’d be okay, and you called me at like three in the morning?”

Virgil presses aes lips together, still not looking at him as ae struggles to hold back some sort of comment. “To be fair, I wasn’t expecting you to answer me, so that’s on you.”

“Even if I’m asleep, you’re one of my push through contacts, V, so it just would have been rude to not answer when it’d woken me up.”

Virgil’s eyes flick up to Roman. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

“There’s no need to be sorry for it. You were worried about hir, and you had every right to be. You saw ze was getting bad again and were scared that ze’d do something when you weren’t as close.”

“I know. I just…I should’ve trusted in Remus more.”

“You were watching over hir for a long time, and it’s understandable that you’d think that no one could help correctly.”

“I was so scared that ze’d cut me off again like in high school.”

Roman lifted Virgil’s head gently, pressing a kiss to aes cheek. “I know. But ze got through it. And we’re going to be seeing ze tomorrow. We made it through, and ze’s okay. Promise.”

Virgil buried aes head in the crook of his neck, breathing a few moments. Ae pulls away a second later, eyeing the pictures on the walls, seeing Janus and the others there. Ae takes a steadying breath. _It’s okay_ , ae tells aeself. Ae doesn’t have to be scared anymore like back then.

“You okay?” Roman asks, and Virgil nods as they both look down at the photo album again.

He flips a few pages further, laughing at some of the silly pictures and comments below them. Virgil looks up when ae hears aes phone chime, and ae looks at the notification.

_Hiya, Virgil! I was just wondering if we could reschedule your session to next Tuesday instead of Wednesday? Something came up._

Virgil’s types out a quick reply to aes therapist before looking at Roman again. “Hey,” ae says, and Roman quirks a brow. “Did I ever tell you about the time Doctor Picani and Logan ganged up on me to ship me with you?”

Roman cocks his head to the side, suppressing a laugh. “No, I don’t think you have. How does your therapist even–”

“Well, you see, I was at Emile’s a while back with Logan, and Logan made a comment about you during a game. And ce just happened to see the look Emile sent me, and ce went on to explain that I had a crush on you, and they would not stop making jokes during the Game of Life.”

Roman stares at aer, holding back laughter. “Really?”

“Yes. And yes, you can laugh.” Roman lets out the laugh he’d been holding in, folding at his chest in a full, deep laugh. For Virgil, it’s worth the embarrassment to see him laugh like that.

“I–I can’t believe Emile started shipping us because of _Logan_ ,” Roman says between laughs.

“I _know_.”

After that interruption, they kept on, pages falling softly as voices and laughter filled the room. At some point, one of them turned on music, and they softly swayed to it.

Anticipation has grown in Virgil as they go farther. But Roman pauses yet again at a picture that completes the first section. Surprisingly, it’s one that's not taken by Virgil; Logan had taken it instead.

“Is this the one I think it is?”

“Of course. How could I not include it?” A grin settles on aes face, and Roman shares it. How could they forget it, after all?

The memory has withered in the two years since its birth, but it glows brightly in Virgil’s mind still. Christmas Eve two years to the day, and it still flusters Virgil to no end.

Among their friend group, it’s always been a tradition to gather on Christmas, and that year had been no exception. It had been Patton’s year to host, and even now Virgil could still smell the scent of their amazing friend’s baking. The parties were always loud and merry, but Virgil could never bring aeself to mind.

However, the only issue with Patton’s place was its size. It was an apartment for one, and once you fit in the Prince triplets, Logan, Janus, and Virgil, it was quite crowded. But it only brought them closer…quite literally.

The sweet smell of baking had hit Virgil like a brick as soon as ae had opened the door, but it was Patton’s dog that did physically hit aer. Ae barely made it through the door before ae was crouching down and petting the golden retriever. Ae couldn’t resist the laugh that had bubbled from aes lips when she licked his face, letting a gasping “ _Nellie_!” escape as she did. In a moment, Virgil had stood, brushing away the excessive dog hair that ae had managed to become coated with in aes short time at the apartment.

Nellie had run away as fast as she’d come, and Virgil surveyed the room to see Remus laughing at aer. They embraced , Remus’ grip tight while Virgil’s was much looser. He was soon pulling away, speaking to his brother over Virgil’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Ro-bro, I’m not stealing your enby,” he said, cackling as Roman squawked.

“Oh, go torment your datemate,” he whined, waving him off.

“I would just so you could torment yours, but mine isn’t here yet.” Still, Remus wandered off somewhere, most likely to steal chocolate or torment Patton.

Roman had laid his wrapped gift with the others as he took Virgil in his arms, hugging aer like it was their last day on Earth.

“Not that I don’t love the enthusiasm,” Virgil gasped, “but you’re choking me.” Ae heard Remus snort loudly from the other room, and ae turned to yell over aes shoulder, “not that kind of choking, Remus, _God_!”

Roman had sighed deeply into Virgil’s shoulder, loosening his grip a bit. He let go a few moments later, going to hang up his coat. Virgil made aeself comfortable on the couch, looking up a few minutes later when Logan and Remy came in and greeting them. Barely five minutes later, the door had opened the final time to let the last member of their party enter swaddled in as much warm clothing as possible. Virgil had risen, laughing at hir before pulling hir into a hug.

“Really missed me that much?” Janus said, wrapping hir arms around the other.

“Maybe a little.” The hug lasted a few seconds more before Janus pulled away, shedding hir layers and going to hang them up.

Piled on the table were gifts, some bagged, others wrapped, some with bows, some with ribbons. Slowly, everyone had migrated to the living room, arranging themselves to open gifts before Patton had come in scolding them that they were doing pictures first. As it turned out, Patton, despite his “kiss the cook” apron and hair standing on end, could be quite intimidating, and Virgil hurried to bring out aes camera and tripod.

Setting up the camera was easy, but getting everyone into places on the small couch? That was where things had gotten much trickier.

“Shut up!” Virgil had hollered over their chattering and shoving, and it took a few more times before they finally listened. The silence felt almost odd, even if the sound of Christmas music from the kitchen sang still. With a professional’s eye, Virgil began to arrange them, situating Logan and Remy on opposite armrests, Remus and Janus standing behind, Patton on the floor, and Roman on one side of the couch, leaving a space open for aeself. Ae had stooped down, peering at the screen and adjusting a bit before flipping on the timer for ten seconds. Ae clicked the button, hurrying to aes spot where Roman wrapped an arm around aes shoulders, and they all threw on a smile.

Virgil got a few pictures of all them before declaring that they were going to do partner pictures. Ae gestured for everyone except Remy and Logan to come back. Then, ae had Logan sit at the left side of the couch, having ce sit with cir legs crossed. Ae then made Remy sit resting on his hip, legs swept to the right, leaning against Logan. Just as Virgil had taken the picture, Remy moved, cupping his queerplatonic partner's face and pressing a kiss to cir cheek, making ce turn as red as cir jumper.

Remy had worn a satisfied smirk as he stood up, helping up his flustered QPP and dragging cir away, letting Janus and Remus have their turn. Virgil told Janus to sit on the couch and Remus to sit between hir legs on the floor. Ae snapped the picture just as Janus had bent down to kiss hir boyfriend who’d been staring at hir.

Finding the pictures to be satisfactory, ae went to tell Roman and Patton to go sit but was stopped as Logan put a hand on aes shoulder, saying that ce would take a picture with Virgil in it. With a sigh, ae agreed, letting cir boss aer around.

Logan’s idea had been simple. Ce had Virgil sit on one side of the couch, telling aer to relax against the cushion as ce directed Roman to lean against aer. Without prompting, Virgil’s arm had snaked around his waist, and Roman had looked up at aer in surprise. Finally, ce had Patton kneel behind the couch, resting his arms along the back. They all smiled, and ce took the picture, but as Roman went to get up, he stopped, looking up.

Virgil had paused, looking up in confusion before comprehension dawned on aes face. Above their heads was held a sprig of mistletoe, Patton wearing an amused smirk as he held it. Virgil looked back down to see Roman already staring at aer.

It hadn’t been as grand as the movies portrayed it; there was no music crescendoing in the background, no softened lighting focused on the two of them. Virgil’s hand shook as ae raised the one not wrapped around Roman’s waist to cup his face and tilt it up, eyes slipping closed as ae brought Roman’s lips to aes.

Roars and whoops had erupted as the camera shutters clicked, and Virgil felt Roman’s chapped lips press into a smile against aes. Ae had sincerely hoped that Roman couldn’t hear aes heart racing from where his hand rested on aes chest.

They had pulled away slowly, barely a hair’s breadth apart. “Hi,” Roman breathed.

“Hi,” Virgil had whispered back.

“I think I might like you.”

“Well, no fucking shit, Sherlock!” Remus had yelled, and the two jumped apart, matching looks of guilt and embarrassment on their faces.

Virgil had looked at Roman, muttering “we are so fucked.” Roman nodded in agreement.

“You bet your gay asses you are,” Remy said.

“You’re never going to live this down,” Janus added, and the pair looked across the line of their friends–Patton having joined them–all wearing satisfied looks. Patton wiggled the mistletoe at them, and Roman lunged forward.

“Patton!” he shrieked, and Patton had run from the room as they all erupted in laughter. And despite how red Virgil’s cheeks had become, ae knew that ae wouldn’t give this up for the world.

That hadn’t stopped aer, of course, from chasing after Logan after Remy had let slip that ce had caught the moment on camera.

Roman presses a kiss to Virgil’s lips, successfully drawing ae from aes thoughts.

“It was so embarrassing,” Roman mutters against aes lips, and ae nods in agreement.

“I can’t believe they did that. Not complaining, of course.”

Roman nods, pulling away. “Shall we continue?” he says as if they had a long and arduous journey ahead of them.

“We shall,” Virgil replies, laying aes head on his shoulder to look at the pictures.

They flip farther and farther, remembering times of sickness and inside jokes and trips taken. Their voices are light and happy, and Virgil’s face hurts from smiling so much.

It’s after a picture of Roman putting up the café earlier that day that rounds out the second section, and the rest of that page is suspiciously blank. Virgil bites aes lip, fear rising like bile in aes throat. Aes hand drifts down to aes pocket, and ae thumbs it to try and quell the rising anxiety.

The pages scrape as they are flipped, and Roman freezes, eyes blown wide. The large “Fiancés?” in fancy lettering stares back at him, and Virgil takes that as aes cue. Ae slides from the couch, pulling the box from aes pocket. Roman looks up, mouth gaping.

Virgil takes a deep breath, wobbling on aes knee before steadying. “Roman Prince,” ae begins, cringing at the cliché of it. “I’ve known you since the day we met at the park and I fell into a giant puddle. It was a really bad day, and you found me and insisted we play a game. We were ten, and we met up every time we saw each other there. You were in my class when you moved, and then we got a lot closer.

“I’ve gone through every era of my life with you at my side. You were there when my dads adopted me, and you were there when I started going to see Emile. You were there through college and so many panic attacks, and I can never thank you enough for all the support you provided me. I love you more than anything in this world. And if you wouldn’t be opposed, I’d like to spend the rest of my life with you, too.”

Virgil takes a deep breath through aes nose, chest and shoulders rising before falling as ae lets it out. “Will you marry me?”

Roman takes the book from his lap, putting it next to him gently on the couch once he manages to pull his hand from his mouth. There is a moment of hesitation while they stare at each other, and Virgil feels the fear rise up in aer again, clawing at aes throat like a monster. But ae suddenly has aes arms full, and ae hugs him. Roman presses a kiss to aes forehead, to aes eyes, to aes cheeks, and to aes lips, the words “yes” repeated breathlessly over and over.

Roman pulls away only the slightest amount to look at Virgil head on. “Yes,” he says with full conviction. “I love you too. More than anything. And I’d be honored to spend my life with you.”

Virgil smiles, not even minding the pain of it from the much-repeated action, putting the ring on aes boyf–no, aes fiancé’s, ae reminded aeself–finger before pressing aes lips to Roman’s once more. Virgil pulls away only for a moment to fetch aes camera from the table by the couch.

“A picture for a new era?” ae asks, and Roman nods.

“A picture’ll make it last longer.”

“Can you make forever longer?” A hint of red splashes across Roman’s cheeks, and he pulls Virgil to him. Ae laughs as ae maneuvers the camera to capture them both.

Virgil presses the button, and the next phase of their lives begins.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this. Comments and kudos are definitely appreciated and give me life. If you wish to find me elsewhere, I'm on Wattpad as RipplingReader, and Tumblr as strugglingispointless. Happy holidays, all!


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